Fever Pitch
by Seifer Almasy 911
Summary: Two long, bloody years have passed since The Jackal's plans nearly wiped out the UFLL and APR, but things didn't go according to plan, now the ex-patriot mercenaries find themselves tied up in the war once more, struggling to finally put an end to it.


It had been two years since the variou ex-patriot mercenaries had gathered in east Africa, two long years since they had all nearly died several times, and in the end nearly killed each other over a case full of diamonds that would allow them to escape the country alive. Chased out by the two warring factions, the UFLL and the APR when they joined forces. In the end it hadn't worked out very well, both factions splitting off from each other, even more divided than before, new ones forming each day that went by weakening both original groups. Over those two years and the factions splintered and nearly fell apart things kept on going the way they originally had, and in the end the ex-patriots returned, unable to leave behind east Africa, unable to simply walk away. For Frank Bilders it had largely become about money, that was the one true purpose for his returning to Africa, as it essentially had been before. The Jackal had tried to use him as a puppet like everyone else, and had succeded in part, but Frank escaped alive and was still working as a mercenary, and he was purely there for the money. It was all Frank had ever been after once he'd ratted on his one time brothers in arms in the Irish Republican Army, money was all that mattered in Frank's world anymore. His one and only known purpose in life had been an illusion, so he simply supported himself however he could, and the way he knew best was war. That was why he was currently crouched in a field of tall grass out in a savannah hidden from sight and awaiting a convoy from the APR. Frank, being the explosives expert he was afer all his time with the Provos, had set up multiple IED's and lay in wait patiently with his FAL, his bad knee beginning to ache after an hour.

"Where the bloody blue fuck is this thing?" Frank muttered to himself, eager to get his job done and over with already, having been waiting for a while now.

Not long after Frank wondered aloud where exactly the convoy was he could hear it in the distance, quickly approaching. The convoy was made up of four Jeeps and two flat beds moving at as high of a speed as possible without flipping over or otherwise losing control as they hurriedly traveled down the unpathed roads out in the country side. Nasreen Davar was crouched some distance away across the narrow dirt road they were going to ambush, RPG 7 in hand, ready to put down anyone that might survive Frank's traps though they had long since proven themselves to be highly effective and extremely lethal. While Nasreen was motivated by different things than Frank, being one of those who didn't want to see the war rage on any longer than it had to and for it be to be a lot cleaner than it was, she understood and valued his talent, and thus they were working together yet again. Listening intently and waiting patiently Nasreen watched the road like a hawk and then, in the distance, could see the trucks and the clouds of dust they were kicking up as they sped along quickly approaching the ambush point she and Frank lay in wait at. It would be their last trip, their last arms deliver that would never be completed.

"Now!" Frank detonated the roadside bombs, remaining ducked down as he watched the sudden, brilliant ball of fire that erupted out into the road engulfing the first two vehicles entirely.

Without hesitation Frank rose rifle now in both hands and began firing, ignoring the demolished lead vehicles and beginning to shoot single shots at the men in the next truck. Many of the men in the truck now under attack wounded or simply confused and not sure whether to fight back or try and attend to their wounded comrades whose screams of agony were audible over the semi-deafness caused by the bombs. Before anyone else further back could react Nasreen had stood and fired her RPG which struck a Jeep in its grill devastating the front end and everyone inside it; whoever was left began scrambling for cover and firing wildly all around them not aware that in the expansive African country side they were only actually under attack by two mercenaries. Nasreen dropped the empty RPG beside her, grabbing her AKM instead and beginning to advance slowly but surely, firing off loud bursts of well placed death. The APR men started dropping as Frank started moving in from the other side of the road placing well aimed semi-auto shots in rapid fire taking down several men as they barely managed to react. In seconds flat the battle was over and the sounds of war died out save for the two injured men left left groaning, horribly wounded and near death, unable to continue fighting. Frank watched as Nasreen casually executed both men with a single shot to the head and approached one of the flatbeds that was slightly less mangled.

"Looks like maybe there are guns left." Nasreen observed, wiping sweart from her tanned brow after climbing into the back of the beat up old truck, "We should take a few before we go."

"Eh, might as well I s'pose." Frank admitted with a slightly shrug, climbing into the truck behind her, "Anything good or s'it more shitty AK's?"

"Look like it mostly, yes." Nasreen confirmed with a nod, nudging a horribly rusted AK with a canted sight with her booted foot, shaking her head, one hand at her hip, the other hanging at her side holding her rifle, "Oh well."

"Anything else? Anything good?" Frank asked, slipping passed Nasreen as he flipped open a box and took a look through it, coming away with an Uzi, "Well, at least there's something worth while here."

Nasreen simply nodded, grabbed another Uzi, both grabbed plenty of ammunition for their knew toys and left, tossing a grenade in the back of the truck to finish off whatever was left relatively unharmed. As the last of the guns were destroyed the pair of ex-patriot mercenaries simply got back into the Jeep they had arrived in and headed back to Pala having been paid in advance by the UFLL. They would likely continue to work for what was left of the original UFLL, who had long since forgotten the mercenaries' working with the APR two years ago, having enough power shifts that the new leaders either simply didn't know or didn't care having their own agended and needing someone with their talents and expertise to carry out assignments their own men wouldn't be able to. Neither Frank nor Nasreen minded much as it worked in their favor for things to remain the way they were, for the two factions to still desperately need their assistance as well as every other splinter faction that had broken off from them or each other. In all their time exploiting the war between all the various factions neither Nasreen nor Frank had had any contact with the rest of their group, nor knew what they were doing, only having heard rumors that they were in Africa as well and still actively participating in the war in their own way; the two had never run into them however and couldn't be sure any of it was true.

"Well, waddya s'pose we oughta do now?" Frank asked as he got out of the Jeep parked in front of Mike's bar - long since repaired - and walked around to the back entrance.

"Probably stick with the UFLL." Nasreen thought it over for a moment, unslinging her rifle as they entered the bar and set it down on a table, "Why?"

"I had something in mind." Frank shrugged and grabbed a bottle from behind the bar, no bar tender in sight as usual, the location being used as a base by the two of them and only them, "Thought it might be worth looking into.

"If it helps." Nasreen shrugged, taking a seat at the table she'd laid her rifle across, "It's always worth it."

"Should be." Frank agreed with a nod, taking a seat beside her, setting his FAL across a chair he pulled away from an adjacent table, "Remember the king's gold hidden out in the Oasis? What happened to it?"

"Yes," Nasreen nodded quickly, recalling the incident very well, the gold had ended up being lost and neither faction benefitting from its discovery out in the desert, "What about it? Have you found it?"

"I'm working on it." Frank nodded, pouring them both a drink, thinking it over for a moment before looking at Nasreen, "There've been rumors flying around lately, there always were here n' there. Seems some of them may be credible."

"Yeah?"

Frank nodded, "Aye. Seems The Jackal didn't just try getting those diamonds to get across the border, he'd tried to get at least some of the gold as well - wanted it for the refugees to keep. Would've been enough to set up most of them for a while."

"And to make sure they could buy their way out of trouble." Nasreen observed with a curt nod, "Makes sense."

"Well, that gold's gotta be somewhere 'cause The Jackal sure as shit didn't have it." Frank pointed out, continuing after a moment, downing his drink in one go, "That means we can still grab it. The factions will be after it, no doubt, if we play our hand right we could get them to do most of the work for us, yeah?"

"Yes," Nasreen agreed yet again with a sharp, short nod, studying Frank's face carefully, finding the Irishman was determined, "It will do us much good."

"Yeah, a little gold in an off shore bank account never hurt anyone now did it?"

MIchelle Dachss had never liked what she saw in the world around her, had never wished to be a part of it, but had found taht in the end the most effective way to combat the injustices she despised was to do so as directly as possible. That was just one of many reasons for the young French woman becoming a mercenary and was still what stayed at the fore front of her mind. The injustices of the ongoing war had motivated her to return when all the attention she had garnered died down and allowed her to return without too many sets of eyes being drawn to the activist, seeking to start working again to alleviate some of the problems civillians and other non-combatants were dealing with as the war continued unchecked and without any end in sight. In order to further assist the already war torn African nation Michelel had been carefully tracking all sorts of factional activity including supply routes, watching mostly for medical supplies and the like, everything else could be destroyed but it was food and medicine that the peple and the Underground needed and that was who she worked for and most closely with. The supply routes of the APR in particularly had been doing well, too well for Michelle's taste, and were looking into bringing in a large shipment of medical equipment so that they could better take care of themselves and renew their efforts; Michelle on the other hand had other plans, better plans, to stop the convoy she had tracked down and to put an end to their activities for good, badly injuring the APR.

"Target in sight." Michelle shifted her aim slightly as she peered through the scope of her rifle, speaking into her headset, "They're getting ready to leave."

"Yes, I see them." Paul agreed with a short nod though she couldn't see it - or him as he crouched off to the side, rifle in hand, "Waiting on you."

"Same." Warren spoke up as well, closer to the road than Paul, shotgun in hand, "Say the word and we'll hit 'em like no other man."

"Stand by. They're getting close."

Michelle aimed carefully as she tracked the lead vehicle, a Jeep with a machine gun mounted in the back, carrying two other passengers for added security. Her aim slowly drifted over to the flatbed truck behind the Jeep, centering her sights over the driver's chest. Warren and Paul were more than capable of stopping the lead vehicle, as was Marty who had remained oddly silent as they lay in wait to ambush the convoy. As the convoy reached the agreed upon ambush point Michelle squeezed the trigger perfectly achieving a clean kill as her bullet shot through the windshield and struck the driver in the heart, he slumped over and the passenger struggled to take hold of the steering wheel; the vehicle flipped over as it shot off to the side of the road and hit a large rock beside it. Warren stood at the very instant Michelle's rifle echoed loudly in the distance and hurled a lit Molotov cocktail with all his might striking the lead Jeep at the top of the windshield coating its occupants in flaming gasoline; their shrieks of agony and shock filled the air for a moment as Michelle took aim at her next target and for just a brief, oddly more pleasant moment and the driver of the next flatbed's head exploded as the bullet went right through his eye socket and out the back.

Paul and Marty stood as Warren started leading the way quickly approaching the convoy as he carefully firedh his shotgun making every shot count, the other too laying down waves of automatic fire that caught everyone still off guard and confused, cutting them down quickly as they barely started to take cover and shoot back - missing every single shot as they did so. As one of the APR gunmen leaned out from behind the second flatbed to wildly spray bullets at the trio of opposing gunmen Michelle quickly took the opportunity to teach him a lesson about proper use of cover via a 7.62 round through his skull, splashing the man next to him with blood and brain matter before the bullet continued and hit him in the side of the neck as well, leaving him on the ground gasping for air and flailing wildly. Michelle ignored the man and proceded to take out a another with a well placed shot to his center of mass which dropped him mid-step as he charged her partners hoping to go out in a blaze of glory most likely; instead he'd been euthanized like the idiot he was, pulled from the gene pool never to pollute the world again. As Michelle kept laying down precision covering fire Marty, Warren and Paul easily cleared ou the convoy and when everyone was dead or otherwise dying they set about stealing what they could, piling it into two Jeeps they had arrived in and destroying what they couldn't haul back to Pala to give to the Underground workers at the church. The group hardlly ran into any resistance as they neared town, quickly taking out anything and everything that stood in their way with dual Browning M2's, one mounted on each Jeep making any faction attacking them during their outings a very, very bad idea.

"Back at last." Warren yawned loudlyl, throwing his arms up and stretching out as he walked around to help Paul start unloading the supplies from their Jeep, Marty and Michelle handling theirs.

The two groups started carrying supplies into the newly repaired church which had been damaged in several broken cease fire incidents, as Underground and church workers came out to assist with the rest and a minute later all the supplies were stocked in the back of the church.

"Thank you, that should d it." Father Kontumba nodded at them, gesturing to a stak of paper on the table before him, "This is the information you requested, I wish we could offer more but it was enough work getting a hold of this."

"It'll do." Michelle gave a quick nod as she grabbed the papers, staring at them for a moment before looking back up at him, "Thank you, this will save lives."

"As will these supplies - so long as they hold out anyway." The old worn out priest shook his head, "But we will be in contact again we we are in need, thank you."

MIchelle simply nodded again, turned and motioned for everyone who had remained silent to follow her back outside. The small band of ex-patriot mercenaries had taken to doing what they could for the peopleof the war torn country now officially known as the East African Republic, though the name was still often disputed among locals and the global community at large with many claiming it to be a false name forced upon the nation by the west to oppress them, others saying it was the factions' doing, or someone else's, the one thing everyone seemed to agree on for the most part was that it was easier to refer to it as EAR and leave it at that. Michelle herself didn't care to argue over what to call the devastated region, not just yet, for her it was far more important to end the war, bring the criminals to justice, and improve the situation of thsoe whose lives had been ruined by the horrible war; her comrades felt similarly enough and joined Michelle in her quest for justice and peace. They were going to stop the war and destroy the factions one way or another just as they nearly had two years ago, even if they had to do it without the support of their former comrades, though fighting along side them surely would have made things at least some what easier. Michelle recalled hearing something about some of them operating out of areas around Pala, hoping to avoid too much attention by staying out of town and only coming in for work and supplies, but she couldn't afford to operate like that - not anymore. Things had become far too horrible, the disease far too advanced, the condition critical.

Josip Idremeno had learned many things during his life before becoming a mercenary, many of them useful in his current line of work, many of those skils coming from the Yugoslavian Army or the Kosovo Liberation Army; it had been the latter that had seen Josip refining his skills with an RPG 7 and turning it into an art of sorts, or at least he liked to tell himself. It kept his mind busy when he had to sit around and wait after making all the necessary preparations for an operation, when over thinking it would ruin something, when he simply needed to calm down and keep his old, war torn mind from making things more complicated than they had to be. Of course when you were forced into working with the one ally you had left in the world in order to kill several former allies things were as complicated as they could be; Josiphad never entirely trusted everyone in his ex-patriot group, and doubted they had ever entirely trusted him, but Andrew had proven himself as far as Josip was concerned. They had ended up being left behind by the others, and once they managed to escape together right on everyone else's tail they had stuck together, working all over Africa and Asia for the last two years until finally the East African Republic had drawn them back.

Now back in Africa the pair of old, experienced mercenaries lay in wait for their targets. It was simply a matter of watching and waiting at this point, Michelle, Warren, Marty and Paul having already made it fairly obvious that they were in Pala and staying within its borders as well. They would soon learn, Josip thought, that it had been a mistake. He couldn't help but feel a bit of bitterness, almost wanting them to die, even despite their time together two years ago. Maybe his rattled old beat up, half-dead brain had been shaken up too badly by close calls with mortar rounds and grenades, perhaps it wasn't. Josip didn't think about it as he heard his targets approaching.

Andre and Josip's plan would've gone perfectly if it hadn't been for Hakim silently stalking them the entire time and slowly making his way up to the pair as close as possible, SPAS 12 in hand, pointed in their direction already. A single blast to Andre's back sent him sprawling to the ground shouting once in pain before he fell silent apparently dead, Josip barely had time to spin around and take the whole long step and a half it took him to reach Hakim, grasp the foregrip of his shotgun and push it off in the other direction as he pulled the trigger and they both tumbled over losing grasp of the shotgun as they did so, the weapon skidding off to the side as the two men began grappling with each other on top of the roof in Pala, shouts already sounding all over the streets below demanding to know what was going on and preparing for what they believed was a possible attack on their faction or some other end to the cease fire.

"Shit." Marty dropped to a knee, grabbing his rifle as he took a quick look around at all the people starting to run around, "Waddya suppose's going on? Someone steal the other side's only working car left?"

"Not the time, cher." Michelle looked around as well, leaving her sniper rifle slung across her back, pistol in hand, "Let's hope they don't start shooting up the entire town, eh?"

"Don't hold your breath." Warren's eyes darted back and forth, gripping his shotgun tightly, "Let's just go - before things kick off."

MIchelle took off and headed toward the hotel they had been staying at, where things had all began in the republic, as it so happened, knowing that the distinctively loud roar of a shotgun had come from that general direction but they had no choice; if there was anywhere that they could hole up in case something happened it would be either there or the church and they were already almost at the apartment. Warren had taken the lead, shotgun in hand, Michelle staying close behind him as they ran through the heavily barricaded roads trying to dodge and weave through chaotic crowds that were already forming and rushing around in all directions trying desperately to figure out what was going on.

"Shit." Warren ducked and kept moving as shooting suddenly erupted in the street behind them forcing the group to pick up the pace, "C'mon! We gotta fucking move!"

The group took off down the street double time and as the road suddenly turned into a chaotic, noisy battle ground they joined in, taking down anyone that stood in their way or otherwise took aim at them but refrained from joining the quickly growing battle as much as possible.

"Come on." Warren stopped at the entrance to the building waving everyone else in before putting a round into a machete wielding man's chest as he charged toward them, turned and ducked inside the building.

"Shit, what's going on? Now i really think it was something more than a car." Marty muttered, shaking his head as he looked at Warren as he joined them in the cramped hallway.

"A lot more by the looks of it." Paul agreed, not bothering with Marty's usual attempts at wit and humor, looking from him to Michelle, the de facto group leader, "We should get ready, in case anyone needs us."

While the group set about heading into their respective rooms all in a row one after another on the ground floor they had no clue what was going on on the roof, where just above them a brutal fight between Josip and Hakim was raging and neither was all too close to winning, still beating each other senseless whenever they had an opening as they wrestled and struggled for dominance. Josip was clearly larger and perhaps more muscular in his youth but Hakim was at an advantage in that respect and started to best his opponent, rolling Josip over onto his back and punching him in the nose breaking it with no real effort, blood starting to pour all over the large Albanian's face as his Algerian opponent beat him again, pounding his head into the roof beneath him several times before they took hold of each other and once again began wrestling for dominance and a superior position in their struggle. Hakim once again found himself in that position and drove his knee into Josip's stomach as hard as he could before the Albanian recovered and spun around throwing Hakim almost effortlessly into the low wall at the end of the roof. Hakim landed with a loud grunt and looked up to find an angry Albanian coming right at him, starting to unsheath a machete but Hakim was faster - and smarter - the Algerian drew his pistol and didn't stop shooting until Josip went down bleeding all over himself from no less than three wounds.

"That is what you get." Hakim muttered as he stood and walked over, observing Josip before grabbing the wounded man's machete with his off hand, "Being a traitor never works out in the end."

"That was from the roof." Paul looked up from where he stood in the room everyone had gathered in, holding his M16 tightly, ready to start shooting at a moment's notice, he looked back at everyone else, "I'll go check."

"Hurry back." Michelle nodded.

Paul simply nodded and left as Warren closed the door behind him, moving slowly but smoothly, which made up for his pace. Slow was smooth, smooth was fast, and he would get the drop on anyone rushing their way down from the roof or anyone else there for that matter, ready and willing to put a quick burst of 5.56x45 through anyone's head should they pose a threat to him or anyone else. Paul had reached the second floor and the stairs leading to the roof without running into a single living soul let alone a threatening one however and proceded cautiously up them until the door and the top swung open. Paul took a step back off the steps and took aim, centering his rifle on Hakim's chest as he returned the favor with his shotgun, both men only lowering their weapons after a tense second of recognition.

"Almost shot you." Hakim said flatly, simply, never one for many words when a few would suffice.

"I could say the same." Paul nodded as he moved out of the way, nodding and lowering his rifle, "They're fighting outside - I assume something to do with that shot we heard coming from around here."

"It was up on the roof." Hakim vaguely gestured to the stairs he had come from with a bloody machete as they started walking, "I ran into some old friends of ours - no longer friends, however."

"Andrew and Josip..."

"Yes." Hakim nodded, saying no more as they proceeded back to Paul's room.

"Hakim! Long time no see man." Marty grinned, nodding at his old friend and partner, "What brings you to wonderful, bright n' sunny Africa?"

"Business as usual." Hakim shrugged and casually tossed Josip's bloody machete onto a nearby table, "Josip and Andre were going to ambush you outside."

"Shit." Warren blinked, shaking his head after a moment "Shit, never thought it'd get that bad - tried to get a hold of 'em after what happened, never could."

"We all did." Michelle said firmly, "We can't worry about that now, we have to make sure no one else gets killed in this mess."

"You so sure that's a good idea man?" Warren asked, one hand at his hip, the other hanging at his side holding his shotgun, "We're not exactly a force to be reckoned with, number wise."

"We'll make it, we did before and we were hardly ever gathered like this if at all." Paul pointed out, "We'll be fine. We just need to take up positions."

Warren nodded, smirking, "Yeah, alrigt, me n' Hakim here'll keep the first floor locked down for ya then."

Paul nodded, looking to Marty, "You will be with Michelle, then, on the second floor. I'll keep an eye on things from the roof."

"There are weapons up there - from our friends." Hakim reminded him, "An RPG is of particular interest."

Paul paused for a moment and nodded, "I'll manage."

With that he pushed his fridge out of the way revealing a make shift weapons cache in the floor, taking as much ammo as he could carry, a few gernades of various kinds and ammo for his pistol Paul turned and headed out to make his way to the roof, leaving everyone else to get ready as well. After a moment everyone had stocked up, leaving what they couldn't carry or didn't need; of course, their rooms had similar small stashes of weapons and ammo and could be used should they exhaust their supplies and Paul's cache dried up as well, though he seemed to have just a bit more stocked up than everyone else - the advantages of being a smuggler as well as a mercenary most likely.

"Alright, let's go." Warren jerked his head toward the door as he started for it, Hakim not far behind.

"Looks like it's just us two then, cher." Michelle made sure her rifle was laded, taking an Uzi from Paul's supplies and ammo as well, "Shall we?"

"Oh, definitely," Marty nodded, gesturing for her to lead the way, "I'd love some alone time, just me n' you."

Michelle sighed as she rolled her eyes and headed out the door, Dragunov in hand and ready to do some damage, considering just going to the roof for a moment to give Paul her rifle where he would likely be able to do more damage with it but decided against that course of action, instead she would use it as best she could from the various room windows and pick off who should could.

"Ah shit!" Frank cursed as he and Nasreen drew closer to Pala, the gun shots and shouting they had been hearing as they approached getting worse with every second, "Looks like the bloody cease fire's gone to shit completely - again."

"We'll just have to deal with it." Nasreen glanced down at him from the gun she was manning, "Just keep this thing steady, I will shoot."

"Yeah yeah, the usual." Frank nodded, remaining calm as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel slightly and sped up as he entered down, plowing through a small groupp of UFLL men as he entered the city.

Paul contemplated Josip and Andre's bodies for a moment, not knowing what exactly had driven them to that point, they had always had strong convictions of their own just like anyone else in their ex-patrio group. Perhaps everything had finally gotten to them and their "betrayal" had broken the men, whatever the case Paul would never know and didn't waste any time in setting himself up. Grabbing the two dead mercenaries' gear he set it off to the side where he could easily grab it when it was needed and drug them off to the side, out of the way, and prepared for what might have ended up being a long, drawn out siege of the building should anyone attack it. They had the skill if not the numbers to defend it but Paul Ferenc, in his time in the Israeli Defense Force, had learned that numbers weren't always everything; something special forces units the world over constantly proved, but so did rank and file IDF troops, who were out numbered and surrounded on all sides at all times since the creation of the Israeli state. It was there that Paul had honed his skills, skills that he put to use as he took aim at nothing in particular and carefully observed the streets below, moving around the roof top, ready to fire on anyone that appeared to be a threat to the building and its occupants. Paul found such a target soon enough as a man stormed out of a UFLL controlled building and prepared to launch a Molotov cocktail across the street; Paul stopped him just as he reached the curb with several well placed semi-auto shots to the chest.

"Bad move." Paul murmured as he shifted his aim and started shooting at several UFLL soldiers that had seen the incident and were taking aim at him.

Two of the men dropped immediately upon being struck by three shots each, hitting the dirt road like a sack of bricks, the third managing to let loose a badly aimed burst from his AK before Paul sent a single round through his skull destroying skull and brain matter alike. Paul quickly shifted his aim again, scanning the street below him for any other UFLL threats and finding none he moved over to the other side of the roof and observed the APR for a moment, hearing gun shots from below him as he did so, watching as Michelle and Marty's targets dropped.

"Nice shots." Paul spoke into his headset, having put it on during his ascent to the roof, "Looks like they're focusing on each other for now."

"Don't say that man, you're gonna jinx us." Warren interrupted from the ground floor, "I'd rather not have 'em come stormin' in here."

"Fair enough, you see anything down there?" Paul asked, scanning the street below him and watching the battle unfold.

"Not much, tagged a few guys - Hakim blew some guy's head clean off."

"Just watch those doors." Paul reminded them and took another shot at what looked like a lone gunman taking off toward the church for whatever sadistic reason, "Looks like they're still a little too busy bothering with each other - shit!"

Paul duked as he didn't have time to take aim and shoot back at the man who had just hit the low wall in front of him with a burst of automatic fire, continuing to spray the area wildly, soon more joining in.

"You hit?"Michelle carefully took aim and put down a soldier rushing to join the group.

"I'm fine, took me by surprise is all." Paul pulled the pin on a grenade, let the handle go counted off a couple of seconds and dropped it out into the street, "Frag out!"

Warren stoppeed mid step and ducked down looking out a nearby window as the grenade went off taking several soldiers with it in a fantastic bloody display before he got back up and approached the window, taking aim and putting down another soldier with a shotgun blast to the chest. Hakim was on the other side of the building doing much the same thing, they were both armed to the teeth but a large portion of their targets were easily within range of their shotguns, maing dealing with them easy enough.

"Shit, it's pretty bad." Frank commented as he slammed the brakes in east-central Pala, near the APR HQ, though none of the soldiers fired on them, not knowing of their activities and hoping they had shown up to assist their side.

"Very." Nasreen quickly turned her mounted gun and opened fire down the street straight ahead at the heavily guarded UFLL HQ, "Don't get shot."

"Try not to." Frank agreed, hopping out of the Jeep and taking cover behind the engine block before returning fire down the street which was still relatively evenly split between the two factions.

Frank chose his targets wisely, putting down several UFLL men with two or three shots apiece, quickly reloading when his rifle was empty, quickly taking a look around and deciding it was best to fall back for the time being.

"Nasreen, lass, let's head inside!" Frank shouted, firing a couple of shots at an advancing group, one of them carrying a light machien gun.

"Right behind you!" Nasreen let off an extended burst from the mounted gun before dismounting and slipping out the back of the Jeep, gun in hand as she rushed into the APR HQ right behind Frank.

The two mercenaries ducked and rushed through the busy HQ as bullets tore through the walls and planted themselves elsewhere some even finding an APR soldier or two, though most of the few who were hit survived and kept fighting with minor injuries from the stray rounds. Frank and Nasreen proceeded without much concern for the dying militiamen and headed upstairs to speak with the current leaders of the APR, Andre Kontube being the local man in charge was there speaking with one of his enforcers who quickly rushed passed Frank and Nasreen as they entered the office.

"Ah, and who is this? Perhaps my own mercenaries have turned against me? Or are you UFLL spies, come to infltrate my base and assassinate me? Tell me, was it you who broke the cease fire?"

"Had nothing to do with us, I assure you." Frank spoke up as the man in fatgigues stood from his seat and eyed them cautiously, "And we definitely aren't out for blood - not yours at any rate. We're here because you need us, that and we got caught up in all this mess, n' thought you might need our help."

"It would definitely seem that way, yes, but things are not always as they appear." Andre smirked, walking around in front of his desk, still studying the two carefully, "And we are not in quite as much trouble as you are lead to believe."

"Oh? And how's that? I don't s'pose you've a hidden armory or something chalk full of enough rockets to level half Pala and all the rest the UFLL?"

"Something like that." Andre grinned widely showing a set of pearly white teeth, an odd sight in such a country and especially under such circumstances, "But we do require some assistance, yes."

"And what would you need assistance with?" Nasreen spoke up, having remained silent and studied their possible employer.

"That is simple, I need you to retrieve some things, and then move to a camp in the desrt, near the Oasis. You see, the UFLL are trying to avoid us. Think we do not know about their activities, think we do not see them moving about in the desert - not so. You will take what you need from our cache and use it against them."

"Sounds easy enough." Frank crossed his arms, "Where exactly is this cache and the camp?"

With all the information they needed Frank and Nasreen headed back outside and quickly took off in their Jeep which had been shot a few more times while they were inside but hadn't taken any serious damage. Nasreen manned the gun once again and started letting off short, controlled bursts that quickly, easily took out many UFLL soldiers and APR as well as they headed out of town as quickly as possible.

"Shit, they're everywhere!" Marty shouted, gunning down what seemed like his hundredth APR soldier before moving away from the window and reloading, throwing a Molotov out into the street afterward to keep everyone at bay, "How you guys doin' down there?"

"Not too good buddy!" Warren sprayed a maniacal machete wielding UFLL soldier as he rushed him, trying to leap through a broken window, emptying his MAC 10 into the man, "They're focusing on us a bit more. We're stuck between two wolves fighting over a carcass!"

"That is a very good wording of things my friend." Hakim agreed in an oddly calm manner, putting his last shotgun round into someone's face, ducking behind an overturned table to reload, "We are having much trouble, may fall back."

"Just do it before they get inside or else you'll get swarmed." Paul reminded them in an equallyl calm voice from the roof top, having switched his M16 to burst and opening up on a growing crowd of UFLL soldiers who were slowly but surely taking the city, "I'll hold off who I can, it seems the APR is focusing on them."

"Solves one problem." Warren grumbled, backing up as several men rushed his position and he opened up with his Ingram, "Falling back! They've got the numbers, boys, a full retreat might be a good idea."

"We have nowhere to run." Hakim said simply, dropping his empty Uzi and switching back to his shotgun as he met Warren near the stairs, "We stay here, funnel who we can."

"Works for me." Warren grabbed a grenade from his gear and hurled it into one of the rooms the men were entering from, it detonated a second later and took out all four men in that room, "Think we can hold 'em off?"

"Maybe for a short while." Hakim took aim and put down a gunman as he entered the hallway, "Then we fall back, hold them off at stairwell."

"Works for me man, works for me." Warren placed a few more shells in his Ithaca 37, "Let's do this."

Frank and Nasreen had taken off as quickly as possible none too eager to get involvedi n all the violence they had left behind in Pala, hoping it would settle down by the time they returned. They had already done serious damaget o the APR and now working for them, however over confident their leader seemed, would only result in more money - or rather diamonds - coming their way. Whatever ended up happening they had already been paid in advance for their current assignment and were quickly making their way to the APR cache further away from town, not too far from the Oasis camp they would be attacking. The arms cache it seemed had been left out in the desert for emergencies, should teams operating in that area need to arm themselves, or needed more firepower than they had but the UFLL had started operating heavily in the area and APR operations wittled down to nothing as they tried to conserve their resources and fight what battles they could. What Frank and Nasreen found was certainly more than enough to help start turning the tide however, piling a mortar, its ammunition and several other toys into their Jeep that they deemed useful if not immediately necessary.

"Ah, this'll be fun," Frank smirked as he climbed back into the driver's seat and took off once Nasreen had joined him, "Light 'em up with the mortar - won't even have to do anything but poke through the mess and make sure we got 'em all."

"Don't be so sure." Nasreen urged him, shaking her head slightly, "You never know, they may prove more troublesome than you think."

"Ah, fair point," Frank shrugged, heading deeper into the desolate scenery of the night time desert, "Either way, the APR's supplying some nice toys to play with. Should make things a bit easier."

"Shit, up the stairs! Now!" Warren threw a grenade down the stairs and turned to run after Hakim, shotgun in hand.

The grenade went off delaying the inevitable as more gunmen stormed the apartment complex and started to head for the stairs hoping to hold the men off. The group had been discussing what to do next as they fended off the hordes of heavily armed militia as best they could, unable to help any of the civillians that may have been trapped in the cross fire, Michelle being the most obviously affected by that fact. In the end however everyone's main concern was getting out of the building alive as they were now entirely surrounded, having holed up there to avoid the majority of the fighting now proving to have been a bad idea.

"Y'know, call me crazy, but I don't think them APR boys were suffering as much as we thought."

"Too late to worry about that now," Paul replied from the roof, where he had already exhausted Josip's supply of rocket propelld grenades, "I'm coming down, I'm no good up here. They'll all be coming in soon."

"We'll be waiting." Marty confirmed with a nod, looked at Michelle then turned and headed out of the room they were both currently in.

Paul dropped his last grenade over the side of the roof and took off down the stairs carrying his rifle and Andre's as well, both he and Josip had been carrying AK47's and Paul had taken as much ammo as he could carry from either of them and then rigged a grenade to detonate should anyone tamper with the bodies and try to obtain the rest of the ammunition. Paul rushed down stairs and found Marty and Michelle meeting up with Warren and Hakim.

"We will not be able to stay much longer I am afraid, my friend, we must go. There is nothing we can do."

"We'll set a trap, let them come in, blow them all sky high - it should put a dent in both of them for a while. They'll think twice about fighting in Pala. It'll be too costly. They'll go back to small battles over outposts and supply routes." Michelle suggested, glancing at the stairs where Warren single handedly held off a rather large group.

"Works for me, let's just do it already." Warren dropped his empty shotgun and grabbed his Ingram again, shooting another gunman, "Any bright ideas?"

"Just one, hold them here, I need to get back to my room." Michelle handed her rifle to a hesitant Hakim.

"Good luck." He stated simply and turned to assist warren.

"Looks like we've got their backs, eh?" Marty smirked, performing a tactical reload, "Come on, let's get in position."

Paul simply nodded and headed off to a favorable position where he had decent cover and a good line of sight, one which intersected with Marty's so that they could cover different areas but still catch at least a few people in a cross fire if they came from certain approaches. Michelle on the other hand made her way to a second floor window, scanning the alley below for enemies before making her way down, landing and rolling as best as she could in the carmped, filthy quarters, coming up in a crouch pistol in hand. This wasn't the first time Michelle had been tasked with something stealth oriented or risky - or both - she had rescued many people, particularly children, and hardly had to fire a shot many of those times; she had always felt the urge to but knew if she did it would risk the entire rescue operation. Now was no different. Michelle quietly made her way in through a shattered window on the first floor and dropped to a low crouch, scanning the room quickly before proceeding cautiously careful to avoid the militia men adn only moving when she knew she was clear; Michelle stepped into her room just in time to find a group rifling through it, spinning around to face her she got off sevearl shots into two of the men before one put two into her hip and she dropped to the floor unable to aim and shoot before the two of them were all over her, kicking and striking Michelle as quickly and violently as possible with their rifles. Michelle was hardly able to fight back, barely even able to curl up into as tight a ball as possible and protect herself from the blows, a particularly brutal kick to the back of the neck and head feeling like it was going to kill her as a rifle butt found its way through her defenses and likely cracked a few ribs.

Back on the second floor Michelle's comrades who were eagerly and worriedly awaiting her return had faired no better as Warren was wounded first but continued fighting through the relatively minor injuries before he and Marty were both knocked out and injured by a single greande leaving Paul and Hakim who both fought viciously even as they had to close with the enemy and beat and stab the men attacking, no strangers to extreme violence or fighting for their lives but they too were soon overwhelmed and soon to be scattered in the wind.

Frank had set up his mortar near enough to the fort to easily bombard any given location within its walls and even outside of them sould he need to and prepared to start his attack when Nasreen gave the go ahead. She would proceed as soon as the attack started, using it as cover to slip into the fort unnoticed, something that would otherwise be difficult if not impossible with only two small entrances and guards crawling all over the place. As Nasreen got into position she called Frank who answered, the call lasting seconds as she told him she was in position and they both hung up. Frank dropped the first round into the metallic tube of long range death delivery and ducked away from it, listening to the loud metallic thunk of a mortar tossing its round up into the air, finding its target in an arcing trajectory it landed exactly where Frank had wanted; the round impacted just short of the front entrance and instantly wiped out two guards, alerting several more who were hesitant to investigate at first before rushing to the scene to see where the mortar fire was coming from. Frank dopped another round into the mortar and it impacted in roughly the same location taking out another two guards and injuring a third who could be heard as the echoes of the blast died out, screaming in agonizing pain which illicited urgent shouting and screaming from his comrades, several of them rushing to quickly drag him out of the line of fire. All of their efforts to organize and figure out what was going on as well as assist their injured comrade was simply met with rapid mortar fire from Frank who ranked both sides of the main entrance with fire, allowing Nasreen to slip in and only have to silently take out two guards on her own.

Having already agreed upon a free fire zone Nasreen proceeded cautiously into the fort without worry for Frank's possible hitting her with a mortar round, and even if he did there was very little she could do; if a mortar found its way toward you all you could do was keep moving and so Nasreen did. Keeping low and avoiding the rogue men running around preparing for a fight they would likely never get as Frank kept them busy with his considerable supply of ammunition and Nasreen simply avoided a fight at all, only having to take down one more guard with a machete to the throat as he almost literally ran into her coming out of the nearest guard tower. Silently dragging the guard back inside and leaving him out of sight Nasreen sheathed her bloodied machete and proceeded up the stone staircase that wound up to the top, MP5SDA3 in hand, the integrally suppressed weapon more than quiet enough to see her through their current assignment. Slowly edging her way up out of the tower and onto the top of the structure Nasreen quickly spotted a lone sniper crouched at the front, resting his old bolt action rifle on the low wall in front of him, scanning for Frank out in the distance. The militia sniper would never get a chance to identify his target, falling over in a bleeding lump of lifelessness after Nasreen put a threer ound burst into his skull. Nasreen moved over to the edge of the tower over looking the courtyard careful to keep herself hidden, crouching low and observing what she could.

"Can't see a damn thing." Nasreen murmured to herself, barely able to hear anything over the last round in Frank's barrage.

Nasreen looked back out just in front of the main entrance and waited, knowing Frank was preparing for the next phase of their plan; the ammunition they had taken with them hadn't simply been conventional explosive mortar rounds and as Frank dropped the next round into the mortar and watched as it arced through the air and detonated above the main entrance showering it in white phosphorous which ignited and began burning whatever it hit causing a couple of guards to go down shrieking in horrifc agonizing pain while others scattered and still tried to figure out what was going on. The distraction gave Nasreen long enough to scope out the fort further, using her monocular to get a better look at a few things further off or tucked off to the side. Deciding her target was likely in one of the main rooms toward the back of the fort Nasreen started back down the stairs stopping half way down when she heard voices at the bottom, guards having taken shelter from Frank's temporarily halted assault.

Nasreen decided the only way around the men wasn't around them at all and quickly stepped down toward them starting to shoot before she was off the stairs - her first burst hit its unaware mark in the side of the head. The two stunned men who had been with him took a step back in roughly the same direction and just before one of them took two bursts to the chest and face, the other barely getting his rifle up in time to have his face ripped apart by a burst of well placed nine milimeter parabellum as well but he didn't die as cleanly as his companions, firing a burst into the wall as he fell over and died.

"Shit." Nasreen didn't hesitate as she approached the doorway and peered out into the fort, several militiamen looking in her direction.

"Shit." Frank murmured, having her the series of shots, he'd paused his attack and was ready to start lobbing mortars further into the fort but was stopped by the sudden shooting, "Shit, Nasreen..."

Frank hurriedly dropped the next round into the mortar and didn't hesitate to grab another and lob it at the fort as well, dispersing his shots all around the court yard. If he ended up killing Nasreen it would likely be a much less painful death than being killed by their enemies, and if not he was likely to take out several of them, or otherwise suppress them and allow Nasreen to continue with their mission. Frank dropped one last round into the mortar before grabbing his rifle, deciding he had done enough from a distance and had to move in, knowing Nasreen was still alive as more panicked shots rang out, clearly aimed at Nasreen as Frank remained unseen while charging across the field, running as quickly as he could to rescue his partner.

While Frank made a mad dash for the fort Nasreen found herself suddenly pinned down as the enemy reeacted much more quickly and capably than she had expected, forcing her to take cover and return fire from within the guard tower. Nasreen didn't panick however, as the militiamen she fended off seemed to, firing wildly at her for the most part trying to hit her even when she was completely in cover; instead Nasreen remained calm and barely revealed herself whenever she had the opportunity and took careful yet quick aim, letting off short, controlled bursts. A couple of men were taken out in this fashion, some of them surviving their wounds and distracting more men who tended to their injured comrades before Nasreen had to reload; Nasreen quickly reloaded before grabbing a grenade from her gear, pulled the pin and let the handle go, counting off a couple of seconds before tossing it out from behind cover.

"Grenade! Grenade!" A foreign mercenary working for the UFLL shouted, drowned out by the sudden explosion.

Nasreen took that opportunity to lean out of cover again and start firing only getting off one good burst into the center mass of a nearby militiaman before a deafening crack rang out slicing through the chaotic sounds of battle just as the bullet launched by the rifle causing the report sliced right through Nasreen with no great effort on its part. Nasreen dropped to the floor instantly losing her sub machine gun in the process, gritting her teeth in pain as she clutched her wound, blood pouring out all over her hands and dusty, dirty white shirt. Despite the pain caused by her fresh wound and the always bothersome of warm, sticky yet slick sensation of blood running all over her side Nasreen pushed herself back behind cover and grabbed her pistol; firing wildly Nasreen slumped against the post at the bottom of the stairs, taking down two men who tried to charge in and finish her off.

Frank had started up the sloope and stopped halfway to take a shot at a guard tower, spotting a sniper who had just taken a shot at where he believed Nasreen was, unsure if he had actually hit something; Frank definitely had however as he put a single round down range and saw clearly enough despite the darkness the sniper drop the way only a dead or dying man would. taking off once again Frank doubted anyone had paid attention to the single shot amongst all the other shooting and screaming going on, and even if the men inside the fort had noticed it would still serve to distract them from Nasreen who was still alive by the sound of things. Whatever the case Frank wasn't about to simply leave without knowing for sure, he wasn't the type to abandon someone, only ever having turned his back on anyone once and once only - after they had turned their backs on him leading to his knee injury which still required a brace. Frank rarely thought about that incident or anything related to it for very long however and kept running up hill to assist his comrade in her time of dire need just as they and all their other ex-patriot comrades once had whenever one of them needed the others, and at the moment Nasreen needed Frank's assistance.

"Fucking snipers." Nasreen groaned, clenching her teeth as she reached out and grabbed the MP5 she had dropped, having emptied her pistol, reloaded and set it down next to her, not in any condition to be moving any time soon, "God damn it."

Tucking the stock of the sub machine gun between her arm and body Nasreen fired out of the doorway as best as she could, taking down one man and injuring another, using her phone to call Frank with her free hand; he stopped where he was near the side entrance to the fort and answered, having to shout to be heard.

"Where the hell are ya?"

"In the tower! In front left, they trapped me on my way back down - took out a sniper, another one tagged me!"

"I think I got the one that got ya, just hold 'em off, I'm almost there!" Frank hung up and put his phone away, starting to run again before he got a reply.

Frank reached teh side entrance and prepared a greande, blindly throwing through the entrane without revealing himself and seconds later it detonated taking out several men in the process. Once the grenade went off Frank swung out into the open and started advancing as he let off a series of quick shots, aiming just as quickly as he let them off, shooting and killing three men in seconds. As Frank approached Nasreen's position, the two doing a good job of fending off such a numerically superior force, everything took a massive turn for the worst; Frank had made it into the guard tower when an RPG came hurtling in through the doorway, struck the wall nearby and knocked both of them out, Frank taking some shrapnel in the process.

Erik Jorgensen had flown into the sweltering East African Republic for one simple reason but had quickly learned during his stay in the insufferable country was that nothing was simple. The two main factions had a twisted cease fire in the town of Pala, where Erik was now headed in an open top Jeep being driven by a cheaply paid for taxi driver, apparently so that they would both have somewhere to organize their sick efforts from without too much worry about the other faction. At least that was how things had been. By the time Erik had arrived tensions in Pala were mounting, not simply in the way they always had before, in the calm before the storm manner which meant Pala itself was about to be engulfed in chaos and violence as the rest of the country had - and so yet another town in the Republic had turned into a war zone once again. Erik wouldn't have minded if it wasn't for the fact that it made his job that much harder and he was now forced to get out of the Jeep and walk the rest of the way.

"I am so sorry sir, I cannot go any further - those men up ahead would not let me through any how. They never do when the fighting starts up again."

"It's alright." Erik replied simply with a nod, "Be careful out there."

"Same to you, my friend. You are taking much more of a risk - this place needs a cab driver, but not another roaming gunman."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Erik started down the worn out dirt road as he approached a checkpoint, rifle hanging across his chest, hands resting gently on the weapon as it remained pointed as non-threateningly as possible at the ground.

"Stop." An Englishman ordered, taking a few steps toward Erik, looking him over, inspecting him carefully, "What're you here for? What's your business?"

"Just comin' in to do some research - not related to the war, of course. I mean on some other things, business interests - for foreigners."

"Business interests? Yeah." The man sized Erik up, watching him closely as he walk around to Erik's side and stopped, continuing to scrutinize him, "Yeah - alright. You look like business. Business good?"

"Very good." Erik allowed a small smile as he nodded, "There is much to study. Much your friends will be helping me with, I think."

Erik played the part of a foreign "investor" in the struggle perfectly which had been his cover, one that proved rather useful in the horrifice East African Republic as the civil war raged unabated - almost uneffected by The Jackal's efforts. All things considered Erik wasn't sure his efforts would end differently but he would try none the less. If Erik could infiltrate either main faction in the country then he would be able to proceed with his mission which was to dismantle one or both factions from the inside and put an end to the war. With one of the two factions in power they would finally be able to crush all the off shoots and other factions; with one faction in control Erik would then see to it that they had severe problems running things and fell apart, even if it meant doing all of it by himself. The rest of the world didn't want to get involved even then so Erik would do it all without them, or anyone else if it came down to that, though Erik already had plans to start recruiting those who were willing to assist him. He was by no means an idealist but the war in Africa simply had to stop it had been going on endlessly for three years and had displaed hundreds of thousands if not even millions by that point, kililng quite a large amount as well. Soon enough, Erik told himself, they would find doing so increasingly difficult and eventually impossible - as they would all be dead by the end of things. Keeping that thought in mind, fueling him, Erik strode confidently toward the still raging war zone of Pala, unslinging his rifle as he went.


End file.
